


Those Hands Can Linger

by Fritz_Draw_n_Write



Category: Nativity 2: Danger in the Manger
Genre: Christmas Fluff, First Time, Incest, M/M, Trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-07
Updated: 2020-11-07
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:34:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,139
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27434383
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fritz_Draw_n_Write/pseuds/Fritz_Draw_n_Write
Summary: Midnight. Cold Christmas day. But not for long.
Relationships: Donald Peterson/Roderick Peterson
Comments: 2
Kudos: 5





	Those Hands Can Linger

**Author's Note:**

  * For [stefanJR](https://archiveofourown.org/users/stefanJR/gifts).



> (This was a gift for my beloved mate and girlfriend, Stefan (aka Denzikken in Insta). Written a few months ago. As an amateur in writing, please expect all sorts of unseen errors. No beta.)

The skies were dark and heavy with snow, chilling wind that could slice through thin skin. Dangerous as it may have sounded, it was less busy and peaceful that time. Everyone was in their houses. Warm and cozy, biscuits and milk, the crackled sounds of burning wood in the fireplace. Stories of magic doors and time fleeting years, of fluffy deers and funny elves for the little ones till slumber embraced the children and kissed them to bed.

Midnight. The city was asleep. A silent night it would have been, if not for the ones who long for comfort and relief. 

In a silver and white mansion of London. Two hearts joined together underneath the warm silk and pillows in the master's bedroom. Quiet huffs and groans from each of the lovers in heat. Their skin burns at every touch, and limbs tangle around their bodies. Sounds of licks and clicks escape their mouths as their slick tongues explore and taste one another. It was beautiful. It was slow and gentle. No rush. It was Christmas after all. They waited, at the strike of 10 PM, their family and children were fast asleep. And then they took the opportunity, to spend the first night together in bed.

It wasn't long enough for the kisses and soft touches to end. The man put all of his weight in his arms as he looked down at the sight in front of him. Soft flush of hair in their chest and under their navel down to the base of their hardening member. Arms above and under them. Their breathing slow, expanding and showing the shape of their pecs. Their tall and lean body illuminated the room, as if it was glowing from the dim night lights on the other side of the bed. It might have been if it weren't for those thick black eyeglasses they were wearing.

"Please," a soft growl of a Scottish accent whispered underneath him and closed their eyes as they bobbed their head upwards, showing their long neck, and their back arching up. They were desperate (or maybe scared?) but not too obvious.

"Please what?" He replied, with a similar voice and accent of his partner.

" _Please_ ," the other pleaded again and this time it sounded more like a whimper, subtle squirming legs under him, " _do it_."

There was a short silence. The one in glasses looked above them, confused of why their partner was still and unmoving. "Are you alright Donald?" they asked as they slowly sat up straight to face their love, unconsciously covering their lower half with the silky soft luxurious sheets of the bed.

"Donald?" they brushed their hand on their lover's shoulder.

And as if on que, Donald snapped out of his trance state and answered, "Hold on a moment, what do I do next?" His face serious and uneasy.

"What?" they held their jaw down. Not really understanding the joke of the moment.

"What next? Because I don't know what you mean." Donald tried to clarify for them as he carefully sat down, not really looking at them straight in the eye.

"I thought you knew how sex works? What, did you just touched your wife with your finger and planted a baby inside?" they replied, frowning and made a face which had everyone quiver in fear by just the sight of it. But Donald was unaffected.

"Oh..." Donald realized what they wanted, "Of course I know! But not in this... sort of... I mean we're both men..." he waited for a reply and no sound from the other one yet, so he continued,

"And I don't do anus."

Donald's eyes went down the sheets, he can feel his cheeks burn hotter than their exchange of heat a couple of minutes ago. He never admitted it to anyone but his wife, and now with them, "I thought maybe you could guide me through it instead?" He asked them truthfully, he genuinely had not expected this thing to come. And he can feel the other man's gaze, as if ready to explode.

"I don't know either," they said, barely a whisper, a few minutes later.

"Don't know what, Roderick?"

"I never had sex with anyone." he shifted his body to face the other side of the bed, dragging the sheets with him; insecurities showing in his stiff shoulders down to his spine.

A dreadful, awkward silence radiates the room that was once filled with excitement. How could they possibly not plan this all along? They never had a long talk together. Even if they did, they would never go too deep with their personal preferences. Embarrassed maybe because of their unusual, unforgiving, and intolerable relationship. They never opened up to each other. Even to this day. And when they had the opportunity, they were just assuming each other's so called experience in bed. This is absolutely ridiculous.

The world seemed to slow down, only if it weren't for the clock ticking loudly above the head of the bed.

What in Lord's name are they supposed to do now?

Donald knowing Roderick never talks back after a minute which feels like hours of mortified silence, he gathers his strength and turns on his parental mode to relieve him. He shifted forward and closer to him, and carefully rubbed his shoulders. Scared that he might run off from the room, leaving him hanging in cold air.

"It's alright Roddy, I've been there. I can help"

"Don't... Don't do that. I'm not a child." Roderick defended as he dismissed his partner's cooing. He doesn't have to be reminded how bloody amateur he was of the current situation; especially on Donald. But now he's fully aware that his secret, although suspected that it shall be known someday, has been revealed vocally in the night of Christmas. And things just went sour after that. He thought then that Donald's excuse was much more depressing, pathetic, and just plain stupid. Not into anal? Please. He can order whatever he wants and Donald should damn well _obey_ him.

He didn't know how long he'd been sulking but he noticed that he no longer felt the warmth from his shoulders. He turned to see Donald crossed legged and weight down on his elbows, leaning forward just a bit, staring at him.

Concerned. He straightened himself up as to not show his vulnerability of the situation. Barely. The fact that Donald was still in his half unzipped pants with a hint of hair below his navel, the unseeing dim image of it heated up Roderick's member once more and he dared himself not to show it in his reddened face. He raised an eyebrow, unconsciously clinging to his sheets, "What's the staring for?"

Donald was still looking at him with those unusual dark eyes. Was that a threat? He tries not to think of it that way. It was night time for goodness sake.

"Do you really want to do it tonight?" He responded afterwards. His voice was low, sweet, calm, and caring, that was the Donald Peterson he knew and longed for. It was as if he knew what Roderick was feeling deep inside; he wasn't ready. The love and understanding from his partner was what made his lonely heart melt for.

Roderick slowly shook his head and placed his specs on the bedside table near the dim lamp. He sighed quietly and turned to face him.

"No."

Donald calmly stood up to retrieve his clothes; to head back to his room with his wife. He'll have to pack everything tomorrow, leave the Peterson mansion after dusk with his family. Back to his small house. Back to when everything was normal. But before he did, he felt a soft hand gripped tight to his wrist, he twisted his head a bit over the shoulder to see Roderick's lean shape. He noticed his eyes were somewhat glassy, or maybe it was an illusion formed in the shadows of his expression.

"Could you sleep with me instead?" He asked in a straight orderly manner, making an effort not to show his need of company; still clinging to his wrist. And not wanting to let go, nevermind the consequences if they were found together in bed.

"You know I won't do that," replied Donald, pulling away from him. Having his wife wake up alone in bed was too much. Not now.

"And you know I wake up earlier than anyone's alarm clock in London," He insisted, hinting his thoughts to him, begging as if his life depended on it, "Please, just this once?"

Donald gave up. Roderick is a man of his words. He turned off the lamp on the bedside table. Then shifted under the covers close beside his love, and felt arms around his waist and a hot, slow, and calm breath against his chest. He returned the favor, giving more warmth in each other's embrace. But the feeling and thought of being found sleeping with his brother was unnerving and head wrecking. Imagine how his wife and children and their family would think of him... of them?

Unbearably heartbreaking. Banished from everyone he loved. Everything they loved. Their reputation as Headmaster and World Class Conductor. He thought of forests and castles. It was a risk that is maybe worth taking. Maybe. Just this once right? But who knows? God knows what plans are ahead of them. It'll be tough and hell bent to their graves. He lets go of those thoughts and fell into deep slumber.

××

It had been more than an hour past 2 AM and Roderick was still awake. He could hear the other man snoring softly and muffled in his now ruffled hair. He'll have to sort that out later... or maybe sooner. He could feel the mist of wetness on his head, saliva, he thought. Bloody hell.

He dismissed the wet feeling above him and focused on Donald. Warm. Soft. And a bit of a tickle to the nose from the fluffs of hair on his chest, same as him. They were twins after all. Perfect parallel, like facing a mirror, from head to toe except for Donald's ridiculously messy sharp hair. 

He was thankful for his brother, understanding how lonely and isolated he felt himself from the world, no matter how many achievements he's done. No matter the praises and awards he'd received throughout the years of his profession. His career. His life. Not really his life, just half of it and the rest are left in the shadows. Empty and unattended. He'll never have anything like this. Love. Unlikely but beautiful. There's no one else like the one he's with in bed right now. Not ever. He was so kind like no other. Everybody else was just looking for money and attention; plastic. But not him. He takes care of him with gentle reminders to have a damn rest. He doesn't do it until he leaves the room though. He may be denying it when facing him, but deep down he knew he was better than their brutal and strict father. He was a better fatherly figure to him, he... _liked it._

He was shaking. He noticed. He slightly shook his head, trying not to wake the other man. Then vivid memories came back, the dreaded feeling could go deeper to his younger years. He feared those days for so long. He thought it was over. Suddenly there was another hand, short but big and rough, running up his spine like in the horror movies.

He was trembling badly now, cold sweat running down his face, he felt like his naked body was in the middle of a blizzard. Frozen from the sensation behind him, his f–

He stopped his thought right there. He won't let it consume him. 

_Nobody needs to know._

He took deep breaths, in and out, and focused on reality; back to Donald. He buried himself closer to his chest and held him tighter, under their lovely sheets for warmth and peace... and security.

Trying to amuse himself despite the disturbing feeling seconds ago, he thought of researching more about sex. Funny how holy he must've been, he could be a priest, screaming at the top of his lungs about celestial bodies and whatnot.

He mentally made notes and lists to do for the next day. Calls and calls and calls and meetings and choirs... and watching he denies that one word— man to man sex videos.

Donald can take care of himself about those things. They both have brilliant minds. They're the Peterson twins. They're fast learners.

He formed a mischievous smile, feeling proud and probably vain at the thought.

He closed his eyes and finally drifted off to a dreamless sleep.

xx

The End

xx

Fanart can be found here:

<https://twitter.com/NOTdprssed/status/1300404763276709889?s=09>


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